The newly fallen snow crunched beneath their feet as the woman and her husband briskly crossed the street under the evening glow of the street lamps. She usually went to her appointments alone, but considering the road conditions that day, he volunteered to drive. Her mind flashed back. The last time he had accompanied her to an appointment, autumn leaves had just started falling off the trees and coats were still optional. It was hard to believe how much time had actually passed since then.
They sat in the waiting room together. The warm reality of it was enough to take her lingering chill off. She was glad he was with her again. For the last two months she'd been living in her own little world, one that could only be somewhat understood through her retelling to him upon her arrival home. It was true he didn't miss much, but something about his presence put her at ease. When he was with her, she didn't feel so alone.
Soon they were called back to the appointment room where they were shortly thereafter joined by the oncologist, who carried with her a calming radiance—something that wasn't learned in med school, but rather was an innate gift. Bi-weekly it instilled confidence in the woman; she could trust that every word from her doctor's lips was sincere, honest, and true.
"You need to drink more water," the doctor said.
The woman had no argument to that fact. She had no excuse either.
The doctor continued, "And your levels this week are at 2.0. This is very good! We will wait and see how things go in two weeks."
The woman was a bit discouraged. She was hoping for an early Christmas present, but according to the test, her value had to be less than 0.8 to be considered negative. Another round of chemo shots were in her immediate future. Count it all joy, she told herself. And she could. She was blessed to be following what the doctor said to be the textbook case. Her numbers had been dropping consistently every time. She knew others weren't as lucky.
"There is a saying in french," the doctor began, "'Patience et longueur de temps font plus que force ni que rage.'"
"Ummm...all I got out of that was patience. Patience what?" the woman replied.
The doctor chuckled and then translated: "Patience and time do more than strength or fury."
The woman had plenty of strength, fury, and certainly time. She would trek through all four seasons at least twice before she realized her dream. Patience, unfortunately, was harder to come by.